Speak up by Abigail Kuhn

 

The sunflowers sit beautifully undone

and like you,

for days that felt like years,

they wilt under the sun.

 

Life buzzed around them in a familiar tune

with no break coming soon,

the painful sun is replaced by the cold moon.

 

Their petals slowly fall to the grass.

They sit in silence,

patiently waiting for the unforgiving sun and moon to pass.

 

So full of pain,

so full of emotions,

but with no mouth to speak,

they sit in vain and are weak.

 

But you have a voice, 

a mouth capable of filling droughts,

with a billion words to choose from,

yet silence is your choice.

 

You sit with something that is so profound,

wandering about with no sound,

as if you were a sunflower stuck in the ground.

 

Speak up when the world goes down.

 

by Abigail Kuhn